In that instant, there was a thunderous crash along with more smoke and an even brighter flash than what the wizard had conjured to make his first appearance in the garden. When her vision cleared, Princess Graceful looked up, desperate to see what had happened to her brother. She saw the wizard -- who was cursing volubly and now suffering a bruised head in addition to his already stomped foot -- lying on the ground some distance away. Then she caught sight of a dark figure crumpled against the garden wall, and thither she flew, thinking that the force of the magical blast must have been great indeed to throw her brother so far away. Sinking to her knees beside him, the Princess reached out to touch the King's shoulder, but she drew back in horror as she realized what he had become.

Her brother's form, which had previously been clothed in a linen tunic and sturdy broadcloth breeches (not terribly fashionable, but much more comfortable than silk and satin under a suit of armor), was now clothed in the blackest, shaggiest fur. What had been his noble forehead now showed the horns of a bull. The wizard in his anger had also conjured for his victim the face of a wolf, the tusks of a boar, the paws of a bear, and the tail of a lion. The Princess found herself crying as she looked at her brother, wondering how he would ever regain his natural form.

The King had been stunned by the blast, but now he shook his head and pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the garden wall. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw his sister's tear-stained face, and he tried to speak her name to comfort her and let her know he was unhurt. However, at his attempt she became even more distressed, to hear her brother's voice from the Beast's throat.

Now, you must recall that the wizard's skill lay in illusion, not true magic. Therefore, the King was still a man, and to himself he still looked like a man; but everyone else would see him as a Beast until the spell was broken. In fact, if he cocked his head just so, the King could just see the ghostly outline of the shape that shrouded him. If someone had touched him, he could have felt the hand rest on his arm, but the person would only have felt the muscle and fur of the Beast's paw. He could speak, but all his words lay under an animal's growl.

The King's dawning understanding of what had happened and the Princess's growing despair that it could never be undone were interrupted as another enraged shout rang across the garden: Counselor Gallant had finally arrived on the scene. He had heard the Princess's first cry for help, but it had taken him this long to fight his way through the milling crowds of women in the castle, none of whom could collect herself enough to do more than wonder what all the commotion was about. One lady made the unfortunate suggestion that perhaps someone was shooting off fireworks to celebrate the King's finally choosing a bride, which resulted in a perfect frenzy of name-calling, hair-pulling, and general squabbling in the passages that Gallant was desperately trying to get through. Even now you could hear the increasing noise of cat-fighting coming from the open castle windows.

Of course Gallant had known that there was a sorcerer on the loose ever since the first messenger from the village had arrived. The clouds of smoke and bright flashes Gallant had seen while he was making his way to the garden had confirmed his fear that the sorcerer was within the castle, instead of being engaged in battle with the King somewhere outside. It took only a single glance around the garden for Gallant to see Princess Graceful and the Beast to one side and the wizard, who was now trying to get to his feet, on the other. The Counselor could perceive that the Princess was terribly upset, and he was afraid that the Beast had done her harm. However, Gallant was equally shocked when she made him understand that the wizard had transformed the King into the creature he saw -- how could the King endure being so very hairy?

The wizard finally knew fear as Gallant turned to him with a murderous scowl on his face. And what if the Beast should revive enough to attack? Illusion or not, those claws would feel all too real and were capable of inflicting serious damage. Then the voices of several servants became audible through the archway behind Gallant -- if any more people arrived, they would catch him and punish him! Panic set in as the wizard's cowardice made itself felt. He hurriedly started backing towards the nearest archway, trying to feel around in the pockets of his robe for anything that could be used as a weapon, all the while keeping a wary eye on Gallant.

The wizard's eyes widened in surprise as his hand, rummaging through the odd collection of mystic talismans, amulets, and charms he had accumulated over the past few months, closed around the magic orb. He had forgotten all about it! But would it help in his current predicament? He had no idea of its power! Well, he thought in a flash, it could hardly make things worse for him, and it was the only way to create enough of a distraction for him to escape. With as much wizardly flair as he could muster (which wasn't much, but then he'd been having a really bad afternoon), he swept the orb above his head and promised dire consequences if anyone laid a finger on his powerful magical self.

Seeing that his pursuers were too determined to be dissuaded by threats, the wizard hurled the orb to the ground, where it shattered into a million sparkling pieces. Then he pulled the remaining shreds of his magic around him in a shield against whatever enchantment the orb would work, and he fled the castle as fast as his feet would carry him, not stopping to see what happened.

Two magical blasts of smoke and light should have been plenty for one day, but now there was a third, bigger and brighter than the two before. The sorcerer who had created the orb had been a master of real magic, and the difference was obvious at once -- not that anyone in the castle noticed, since they were too busy feeling its effects. Most dangerous of all, the wizard had flung the orb without trying to control it in any way, so the enchantment was free to take whatever form it wished. When the smoke cleared, everything was quite different than it had been before.

The Beast found himself alone in the garden -- since he was wrapped in magic already, nothing further had happened to him. However, he had not been turned back into a man, since the orb had not followed the directions necessary to break the wizard's spell. Where Princess Graceful had been, there was now a beautiful golden lily. The many women whose noise had filled the castle only moments before were gone, transformed into flocks of crows, ravens, and magpies that covered the roof -- and from the croaking and cawing and flapping of wings, they were still arguing and fighting amongst themselves. The servants, caught on the outer edges of the spell, had not disappeared entirely; but the only parts of them that remained visible were their hands. Of Counselor Gallant, who had been standing just where the orb had smashed, there was no sign.

One would think that, having wrought so great a change, the orb would have had no magical energy left for anything else; but even after all this, there was still one final piece of the spell waiting to be cast.

When Prince Cheerful rode into the Kingdom of Lochlein that evening, he found everyone and everything in an uproar. As he got closer to the castle, the streets became more crowded with villagers running pell-mell in the opposite direction, and the stories the villagers told as they ran became more fantastic. Could a giant ogre in an equally giant iron chariot, pulled through the air by seven giant eagles and attended by armies of ravens (giant, of course), really have laid waste to the castle and all its inhabitants? Prince Cheerful wasn't sure what to believe, since even princes (or perhaps, especially princes) know how quickly hearsay can become exaggerated.

However, there was no question that something unusual was happening at Castle Lochlein, and the Prince was determined to discover what it was. (Pleasant and charming he might be, but Prince Cheerful also did not lack for courage.) So he drew his sword and sent his horse cantering down the road to the castle gates.

At first glance, the castle appeared to be entirely deserted. The birds on the roof were noisy, to be sure, but how was the Prince to know that they had been noble duchesses and haughty baronesses a few hours before? Not a single servant was in evidence, but how was the Prince to know that they were hiding themselves away? (It takes more than a few hours to get used to being mostly invisible, after all, so we will not comment about their disinclination to welcome a visitor.) The silent, empty castle made the Prince rather nervous, and he stood on the drawbridge for a moment, making up his mind to go inside.

A sudden rustling sound startled him from his indecision, and he quickly turned to face the intruder. But there seemed to be no one there! The Prince kept his sword before him as he looked up, around -- and finally, down. There was a large red fox, who had very handsome whiskers and an excellently bushy tail, sitting at the end of the drawbridge. With its ears pricked forward and its tongue lolling (thereby displaying its fine set of sharp white teeth), it had an air of being infinitely amused by whatever it was looking at.

The Prince lowered his sword, relieved that the noise hadn't been created by something more threatening, like a dragon, or the giant ogre the villagers had feared. "Well, Reynard, you and I seem to be the only ones at Castle Lochlein this evening. It's too bad you can't tell me what has happened here, because I am terribly concerned about my friend the King."

The fox cocked its head to one side, as if considering whether to reply. The Prince smiled to himself, thinking he must be daft to be conversing with the local wildlife. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and prepared to enter the castle, when --

"I see here a prince they call Cheerful,
Who looks just a teensy bit fearful!"

The Prince spun around again in surprise, but there was still nothing behind him except the fox, who seemed to be grinning even more broadly than before. The Prince shook his head, scolding himself for what must surely be a childish fancy. Voices coming from nowhere, indeed! He turned back towards the castle gate and had taken no more than two steps forward, when --

"The danger I'll soften:
Beware the glass coffin..."

Brave the Prince was, but a man ten times as brave would have been disconcerted by this disembodied voice (I know I would have been, and you must admit that you would, too). Whirling around again, the Prince cried, "Who speaks?"

"Or else all your friends will be tearful! Who speaks? I do, of course," said the Fox.

The Prince was dumbfounded, since it isn't every day that one encounters a talking fox, and it's even less often that one meets a fox clever enough to talk in rhyme. Poor Cheerful felt a little light-headed, and he momentarily had to support himself against his horse -- who was calmly munching grass at the edge of the moat, utterly unconcerned with anything except its dinner. Once the Prince had recovered himself, he tried to question the Fox about the strange silent emptiness of Castle Lochlein, but it was no use. True to its playful nature, the Fox seemed to speak only in riddles, none of which made any sense to Prince Cheerful. However, anyone who has been paying close attention to my tale may be able to decipher what the Fox was saying:

I know something that nobody knows,
It's as plain as the face on your nose:
Those rich, proud princesses
With silky-fine tresses
Have flown off as ravens and crows!

Where servants once were by the score,
You'll find no one answers the door,
If you wait where you stand
They might lend you a hand;
They can't easily offer you more!

There was in this kingdom so hilly
A maiden who owned a fine filly;
To call Graceful a beauty
Is no more than your duty
And at best is just gilding the lily!

Though I am neither beggar nor priest,
My wisdom is too good at least,
To advise our dear King who
Got caught in this to-do
And emerged as no more than a Beast!

The Prince finally began to lose patience with the animal, since he thought none of the Fox's rhymes explained the mystery of what had happened at the castle. Deciding that facing whatever dangers lurked within, would be at least as bearable as being driven mad by the Fox's nonsense without, the Prince once again raised his sword and turned toward the gate. For comfort, he inhaled deeply the sweet fragrance from Serenity's rose, which he had kept in his buttonhole; it was still blooming as freshly as if he had just taken it from her hand. This time Prince Cheerful strode across the drawbridge without hesitation, and he ignored the Fox's parting words:

"I really wouldn't go in there if I were you!"

The world became eerily quiet once the Prince crossed the drawbridge, since the Fox had vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared, and the birds could no longer be heard. Just inside the entrance of the castle, the Prince found himself in an enormous reception hall. When he looked up, to try to determine just how many stories away the ceiling was, he was amazed: the painted ceiling had been cunningly inlaid with patterns of gold and diamonds, which winked in the dimness like summer stars in a clear sky.

It was too dark in the failing light of sunset for the Prince to see many more of the castle's wondrous decorations; and just as well, or he should have been too distracted to continue his exploration. However, despite the splendor of his surroundings, the atmosphere began to depress his spirits. The sound of his own feet on the marble floor was disturbing, since the echoes thus raised made it seem as if he was being followed by a stealthy someone who always took care to stay out of sight. There were a few torches still burning in their sconces on the walls, but their wavering light only created strange shadows in the corners of the hall. Prince Cheerful was relieved at first when he had ascended the grand staircase and emerged into a carpeted corridor -- but here there were far fewer torches, and with his footsteps muffled, the silence became even more weighty and oppressive.

He felt he had been wandering for hours, through acres of rooms, every one as deserted and hushed as the one before, when he saw a light ahead of him. There was a clear bright incandescence reaching him through a large arched doorway, wholly unlike the gloomy torchlight. And just as he saw the light, he heard the most delightful sound. It was the melody of his favorite song; it was the happy bark of his most faithful dog; it was Serenity calling his name; it was all of these and none of these, and the Prince found it utterly irresistible. Confident that there could be no danger ahead, he sheathed his sword and walked through the archway.

And he did not come out again.

(c) 1998
By Liz McKenna
All Rights Reserved
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